


Am I Wrong For Saying That I Choose Another Way?

by bloodsugar



Series: Am I Wrong [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Bayern München, Borussia Dortmund, Language, M/M, Mild Angst, Post-Betrayal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 22:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2523632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodsugar/pseuds/bloodsugar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Marco feels betrayed, but he has forgiven Mario soon enough, how is Robert any different? But every time they passed each other Marco acted like Robert was invisible, and Robert sure felt that well. Thankfully, Robert is not an easily deterred man.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Am I Wrong For Saying That I Choose Another Way?

**Author's Note:**

> Set some months after Robert's transfer to Bayern Munich. 
> 
>  
> 
> This is now officially a series. I question my entire existence. 
> 
> Really, just go look at the stuff I reblogged on my blog. This ship was delicious and perfect. Ahem. Feedback is my lifeblood. Please take the time to comment.

 

 

 

_[**A**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bg1sT4ILG0w)m I wrong for thinking out the box from where I stay?_   
_[**A**](http://footiez.tumblr.com/tagged/lewaneus)m I wrong for saying that I choose another way?_

 

 

 

 

 

It is Bayern’s second match against Borussia Dortmund and Robert has the same mixed emotions he did at the first one, if not more this time around. He did this for himself, for his career, for his future. Professionally, he does not regret his choice and probably never will. Personally, it is another question altogether. What he left behind was a family, and a home, and if home is where the heart is when the reverse applies as well. Which, Robert supposes, would entail that he left his heart in Dortmund, along with the real start of his career. He wants to look ahead, but when there are some things missing from his life, it is easy to get distracted with memories.

 

Marco feels betrayed, and Robert would guess the blond would be angrier and more hurt by Goetze’s departure, but whatever residual anger is left, Robert can not notice. Marco and Mario are friends like they always have been - only now instead of hanging out all the time, they text and call each other. Sometimes before Bayern’s practice Mario would turn to him, smile wide and happy and say ’’I’m texting with Marco, should I say hi on your behalf.’’ Every time Robert would say yes, and every time there is no reply. Marco feels betrayed, but he has forgiven Mario soon enough, how is Robert any different? He doesn’t know, and he wants to know. 

 

After the first Bayern-BVB match Robert played in red and blue, he meant to catch up with Marco in the tunnel after they changed; or maybe in the parking lot at least. But every time they passed each other before the game Marco acted like Robert was invisible, and Robert sure felt that well. After the game, he only got a glimpse of Marco’s back, heading fast and certain toward the exit, Robert’s call after him pointedly ignored. Thankfully, Robert is not an easily deterred man, even in the face of rejection, so he’d made a note then to talk to Marco in person after this match and this time he will not be ignored. 

 

After the game, he showers and changes in record time, faster than he can ever remember doing so, and not thinking much of it. Getting Marco, who did not reply to any of Robert’s texts or calls and then changed his number, to talk to him is what Robert aims for and it is going to happen. Tonight. Now. 

 

He practically sets camp in front of the BVB locker room, briefly chatting with Erik and Mats on their  way out before Marco emerges and Robert’s full attention is on him. Marco’s hair is wet, and his t-shirt is sticking to him in places, and Robert notes with displeasure that clearly Marco intended to make a swift escape again and ignore Robert’s existence entirely. Robert will have none of that and instead steps directly in Marco’s path, blocking his exit with the sort of determination he usually deserves for the pitch. 

 

There is a moment of hesitation between them before Marco finally looks at him, his jawline set, his lips downturned into a frown. His usually playful hazel eyes now have a tint of annoyance. ’’The hell do you want?’’ Marco hisses and Robert thinks, okay, maybe there is more than a tint of annoyance there. A handful of Bayern players pass them right then, Neuer and Robben turning to give them curious looks, and Robert cringes inwardly. He really wishes he had thought this through, instead it looks like he is about to be murdered in this very public place before he has even had the opportunity to say his peace. He takes a breath, his eyes searching Marco’s face for signs of openness or any willingness whatsoever to not consider Robert as current enemy number one.

 

He finds none. Marco’s eyebrows are drawn together in a scowl, and more so than ever he looks closed off. This is not how Robert remembers Marco being, and certainly even less so with him, and it isn’t how he wishes Marco be with him from here on. ’’I want us to talk.’’ Robert hurries to answer with the bottom line - there is a lot he wants to do with Marco, but talking is the first step since they have done none of that since Robert signed with Bayern. In response, Marco lets out an incredulous, impatient scoff, a ton of intensity somehow laced in the sound, and walks right around Robert, heading toward the exit without a word. His silence is pretty telling, and Robert could get a clue, but he’s not the kind of player, nor the kind of man to give up easy. He spends a mere second gazing at Marco’s back, noting the urgency in the blond’s walk, before he heads after him.

 

He catches up with Marco at the exit to the parking lot, and seizes the moment fast by grabbing Marco by the arm and pulling him to the side. The look Marco turns to give him as he shakes his arm free from Robert’s grip is practically deadly, and Robert has to take a second to pull himself together before his mouth starts working again. ’’Listen,’’ he starts, ready to apologize if need be, but hoping he wouldn't have to. He isn’t the only player to make a transfer to another team, nor is he the only Dortmund player to do this. So why the cold shoulder. ’’I tried to call you, I texted, you didn’t want to reply, fine, but now I’m here.’’ Robert gestures toward himself,  as Marco regards him with a look of distain. The blond looks like he is gritting his teeth and Robert feels almost frustrated enough to do the same. ’’I’m right here, talk to me.’’ He lets the plea lace in his tone. 

 

Marco doesn’t reply, instead just stands there for a hot second which seems like an eternity to Robert. Then too soon, he snaps: ’’And why should I??’’ he growls under his breath, his gaze sharp and almost wild, meeting Robert’s eyes head on. ’’Because you fucked me that one time? I don’t think so. You’re _no one_ to me.’’ He hisses the last sentence and walks off immediately after, leaving Robert standing there, borderline dumbfounded, the pang in his chest feeling like a very real dagger.

 

Robert knows they weren’t best friends, not even when they were happy and successful together at BVB. He has no illusions about them sharing everything, or depending on each other all the time; or even about spending all their time together. But he knows Marco has never spoken to him like this, never felt like he had to. That single night they’d shared at the hotel in Dortmund had been fucking amazing and had definitely remained in Robert’s mind as a meaningful experience, and Marco definitely as somebody to him. 

 

Robert is torn between antagonizing about how betrayed Marco must feel, and trying to overcome this torturous feeling of rejection. He didn’t expect Marco to suddenly to be okay with everything just because Robert put a bit extra effort into rekindling their friendship. But at the same time he can’t believe he has just been on the receiving end of such clear anger. Perhaps he’s not so good at handling rejection after all, Robert realizes as he heads toward his car. On his entire way home he thinks about some way, a much better way to fix this mess because apparently what he has done so far isn’t enough.

 

 

At Bayern’s next practice he makes sure to seem just the right amount of casual and interested as he approaches Goetze. The boy is all smiles and excitement, regardless of the way the public has been treating him recently. They consider him a traitor, perhaps even more so than they do Robert, and yet somehow Mario has risen above it, and why wouldn’t he when he still has Marco supporting him. This support from that important source is something Robert does not have, and intends to regain. He’s never been bothered by confrontation much, but this issue gets as close to keeping him up at night as possible, and he hates feeling like this. 

 

’’Hey, do you have Marco’s new number?’’ Very casual indeed, Robert sighs inwardly, but there is no judgement in the look Mario gives him when he faces him. It’s a dumb question, of course the kid has Marco’s number, they were practically attached at the hip back at Dortmund. ’’I’d like to call him.’’ Robert adds, as a way of explaining himself even though he doesn’t really have to do that. He is Marco’s friend too, or at least he was, and he plans on being in the foreseeable future and then after that as well. 

 

If he approached Mario with a sense of hopefulness, Robert definitely feels disappointment in his chest when the boy makes a face like he just ripped off a bandaid and it stings. ’’Actually, um, Marco told me not to give his number to eh, to anybody.’’ Nice save, Robert thinks, momentarily bitter, before shaking it off. This isn’t the time to get hung up on little white lies. He leans into Mario’s space just enough to show how intent and serious he is about this. ’’I won’t bug him, I promise. If he doesn’t pick up, I’ll leave him be.’’ It isn’t exactly how Robert plans on approaching the situation but it will do for now as an explanation to Mario. The boy thinks about it, mouth twisting in a bit of a pout, but then he smiles wide and nods. ’’Sure thing.’’ he reaches for his duffel under the bench and gets his phone out. ’’Marco should be happy again, he misses you too.’’ he says openly, and the pang in Robert’s chest is different this time. He clutches his phone in his hand, and doesn’t respond verbally until Mario finds the number in his contacts and looks at him expectantly. ’’Ok, ready?’’ 

 

Ready for what? Robert asks in his head. To be shot down and ignored by Marco? To try and make nice, make peace and be rejected? For Marco to maybe yell at him about how unimportant Robert is in the broad picture of his life? 

 

Robert nods. 

 

 


End file.
